Page 9 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

His men scattered toward the forest and the charred battlefield behind us.

Grey brushed past me, still glaring daggers to my face.

“Boo,” I whispered and he flinched back, making me and my people laugh.

I didn’t even see him get close till I was in his arms. He pulled me so tight in his embrace, I could feel every dent of his body melt to mine. Everything else seemed to blur away the moment his heat enveloped me. It was easier to breathe, somehow. His scent of spring made parts of me hurt—mostly my heart. And I was torn. Torn between hugging him back, drowning myself in his caress, and pushing him off of me. My body remembered his tar-soaked lies, his bloodied hands on me, the poisoned sugary words he’d whispered, the care he’d faked to trap me. It always did. The tremble permeating every inch of me made my fists clutch tight enough to sting with that pleasuring hurt.

From the corner of my eye, I caught Nia making toward us. “Snow, wait—” But it was entirely too late.

The man embracing me sucked a sharp breath and for several long moments I thought he had forgotten to breathe. “Breathe, Your Majesty, only I can tell you when to die.” I shook like a leaf in autumn air, clinging tightly to the dagger I had dug to his side.

Blades were unsheathed, arrows were drawn and magic polluted the air around us. All with me as their aim.

The man holding me breathed fury. But not at me. “Anyone who has a single weapon pointed to my wife will have their head sent to their families on a stick!” Kilian shouted and the shadows vibrated with him.

Wife.

A silent gasp left me as he took my hand and pushed the blade onto his flesh. He held me tight, rocking me with him, his hands raking over my body, between my hair and over my skin, feeling me, holding me and breathing me in. His lips touched my temple, pressing soft kisses on my cold flesh. And all I could feel was a hollowing numbness that was growing shallow—so shallow that what I wanted hidden was surfacing. A simple touch had never made me feel anything before. But there was nothing simple about his touches.

“This was your cruellest game, my love.” A rough sob vibrated from his chest, but it hurt me all the same. “You play so cruelly.”

I fought back the sob threatening to climb up my throat for this man. “I could say the same, but I am used to your cruelty. Get used to mine,” I said, twisting the blade in his flesh.

He only let out a sigh and it was not one of physical pain. “You’re alive. Why don’t you feel alive?” he asked, kneading his fingers on my back.

“Because I feel like nothing.” His blood had begun coating my gloves and soaking through to my skin. “How does it feel, Your Majesty? How does my revenge feel?”

Something wet fell and slid down my cheek. A tear. Not mine. “Better than your death.”

Why? Why was I letting it hurt me? “Let go of me.”

“Never.” His hand slipped behind my neck, he held me so possessively I almost ate my words back. “Mine,” he growled in my ear. “You’re mine. To have. To hold. To protect. Mark this promise, my love, I will never let you out of my sight.”

How dare he? “I will kill you,” I whispered harshly, twisting the blade further into his flesh. “I will kill you little by little every day, just like you have killed me every day for the past thirteen years.” I took a step closer bringing our bodies even closer together, my dagger pushing further into him.

“Half of me died that day and the rest when I was told you died. Nothing will hurt nearly as much as that.” His face nuzzled the crook of my neck. “I already ruined the only thing I have ever wanted to protect.”

“We are past pretending, darling.”

Facing me, he grabbed my chin with his other hand forcing me to stare into those icy eyes that were glazed with tears. I hated how unshaken he looked despite. “I will make it my purpose to remind you of the definition of pretend, wife.”

That made me laugh a little. “How did you think this was going to go?” Tilting my head to the side, I gave him a smirk. “Have me fall desperately in love with some poor excuse of guard, forgive you when I realised who you truly were and forget my revenge? Did you not get to know me at all? Come now, you must know better than that?” Leaning in, I whispered, “How hard it must have been for poor you to act like you did. To act like you could ever care for someone like me. Someone who was so against the principles you adored. Someone dirty in your rule books. Someone tainted like me.”

“You know it was no act. You know what you meant to me.” His jaw was set tight. “You know it.”

“I don’t think I do. I don’t think I care. I don’t think I would mind whether it was or not. You lied, but so did I.” Unwrapping my hand from the dagger, I stepped back letting go of him. “Keep the dagger,” I said, pointing to the blade digging in his flesh. “Now you can make a set with the other one. But touch me again and you will have a whole armoury to supply. Actually, you might need it. This is the last time my men fight to protect this hot hell.”

Pulling the dagger out like he was made of hay, not flesh, he cocked a brow up. “Protect? Protect what exactly?”

My jaw tightened at the level of his calm. I had his kingdom by the balls, why was he acting like he had me by my imaginary ones? “What is mine to ruin. And now if you will pardon me, I have a new set of guests to entertain.”

My kingdom awaited me grey and thunderous, the skies cried and poured heavy hail and thunder over the tall mountains surrounding the obsidian castle.

The walls were closing in around me and the world swayed while I struggled to make the way to my chambers.

Breathe.

Breathe.